


Venom Like Honey

by BugTongue



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Commodified sex, Epistolary, Kidnapping, M/M, Secret Admirer, Sugar Daddy, Warnings are ignored, drinks are splashed in faces, hxhbb, hxhbb19, minor weapon violence, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 20:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18582301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue/pseuds/BugTongue
Summary: To pay for medical school, Leorio Paladiknight busses tables and washes floors at a gentlemen’s club. Things escalate; being pulled aside for “requests” becomes more of an escort job, he finds himself growing attached to one client in particular, a secret admirer begins to send him letters he can't decide how he feels about. Then his ex shows up in his life like a whirlwind to warn him about his clientele. Then he gets kidnapped by the exact client he’d been so thoroughly warned about, and Leorio wonders if he’ll be rescued or if he was finally successful in telling his ex to buzz off.





	Venom Like Honey

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know the meaning of pacing myself.

The letters were from a secret admirer, always. Yours Truly, yours Admiringly, your dearest X. He knew someone with the knowledge of language enough to write something so profoundly meaningful but he also knew that ship had sailed when the man had left him behind, nothing left to hold in his hands except a broken heart.

Leorio shuffled the page he'd finished reading behind the small stack as his eyes scanned the page. Sharply laid out script in ink so black it must belong to a wealthy person of relevant status, no one else needed something so extravagant simply for the sake of conversation. Although it had been more than confirmed his mysterious author found him rather stimulating. He wondered what kind of man would go out of his way to buy nice ink simply to impress him.

He assumed it was written by a man anyway. Wishful thinking maybe, or else misplaced desires after working all day ignoring the patrons of the gentlemen's club as they made advances towards the performers, occasionally even being taken aside for a bit of side business. Leorio had managed to hook a fish in such a fashion only once and so very long ago it was hardly worth ruminating on. He wasn't quite so tall in his younger years, but now he was nearly a score and men who came to see willing young ladies had little interest in him.

_'I visited your club recently as I do most days, I saw you in such a way with your sleeves rolled to the elbow and the chest of your shirt soaked through from washing, likely from sweat. I longed to take the buttons betwixt my teeth and set about unraveling you to get a better glimpse than the damp cotton afforded.'_

Stimulating indeed.

  
A secret admirer that Leorio knew visited the club meant that he eyed every patron with the same weight. This one? How about him? There were certainly a few he hoped were not responsible for those letters, but he found that the wore he looked the less picky he became.

  
How odd. Previously he'd only found himself intrigued by men whose beauty was fit to outshine that of a princess. He quickly banished the memory, it was more than time to be moving on anyway and he had other responsibilities to be attending.

  
\---

  
The Rose Garden gentlemen’s club was dark on the inside with green bottle glass for windows, wood floors and walls darkened by the scuffing of boots and the cling of smoke--a tone matching Leorio's own well enough he often blended right in as he took care of cleaning, maintenance, whatever. The latter options being the occasion a man approached him to admire his physique and ask for a walk to their carriage.

  
It was such a man who approached Leorio today, with strong features and pale hair that pushed a sharp thorn between his ribs. The man gestured for him to follow, and Leorio glanced around in a smooth roll of the eyes before leaning his broom against the wall and stepping into the fading sunlight. He was sure that he'd caught a flash of dark eyes before the light made him squint, but if it wasn't his boss then it wasn't worth worrying about.

  
“So how are your studies going then?”

  
“Fine as always, though the local church always tries to have our teacher accosted for ‘unnatural acts’, which so far as they believe might as well include devil worshipping.”

  
“Damned Christians.” The man shook his head good naturedly, as if laughing at the antics of the town drunk. Leorio refrained from touching the rosary beneath his shirt but his fingers itched regardless, so he scratched his cheek instead. The man stepped up into the carriage waiting for him at the end of the lane, far enough enough away to at least attempt being inconspicuous. He kept the door open though, and smiled as Leorio stepped inside after him.

  
His secret writer might be this man, with the way his eyes lingered on Leorio's hands and mouth. Perhaps not, they always seemed to be penned by a man intent on ravaging him rather than being serviced by a novelty. No this was simply another high class gentleman bored of his wife and whores looking for something titillating. A secret to be kept.

  
Leorio smirked at him and let one brow pop up, leaning in some. “Are you aware you called me away from work?”

  
“Work is work, so I've heard.” The price of a confidant with perks was a few bills slipped from one coat to another.

  
“Take the carriage around once,” Leorio advised as he gathered his customer’s cravat into one hand, then pushed it against lips parted slightly to allow for anticipatory breaths. “And be sure keeping quiet goes both ways.”

  
\---

  
“Awfully dull place.”

  
The voice was soft enough that Leorio hardly heard it. But he did hear it and he did look up to see those dark eyes again. He recognized them from a few instances, only the eyes but they left a strong enough impression to make something akin to anxiety sit heavy in his stomach. Leorio wet his lips. “That so? You could always leave.”

  
“I suppose so.” Low but small brows, round face, hair slicked back and clothing put neatly together if a bit off the beaten path for aristocracy. The rich were hardly the main patronage of the place, but this man looked too well tailored to be within Leorio's economic range.

  
“... Well then, I'll just be over there, plenty of glasses need rinsing.” He cleared his throat and ducked to escape that oddly dark stare. Eyes as dark as his own but far easier to fall into than the reflection off the green windows.

  
“You aren't simply the houseman here, are you?” The man followed him with a grace that didn't seem to match the way he carried himself, carefree or careless he wasn't sure. “I've seen you a time or two, being seen.”

  
Leorio swallowed and grinned, shrugging. “And what's to be said about it? You saw what you saw, which wasn't much. What are you trying to say?”

  
“Nothing. I was simply curious if you were… Involved with those men, or if you might be willing to be exclusive.” A cocky stranger, that's for sure.

  
“I'm not looking to date anyone who frequents a place like this.”

  
“Not even the women working the stage?” He saw delight flicker like shooting stars in those eyes like night at the acquiescent tilt of the head Leorio gave him. “I don't mean to date you, anyway. I just want to buy your time and have no one else getting in the way. Call me selfish if you must.”

  
“Buy my time hunh,” Leorio snorted and finally tore his attention away from the stranger to set about washing and drying the liquor glasses lined up along the counter. He didn't make the drinks, a skill he gained too recently to make a living off of. “And what’s your plan for that then, what’s my time worth and how do you think you’re gonna spend it?”

“I thought I would start by taking to to a party I was invited to. I’m not very interested in bringing a pretty girl and surely no one there would recognize you well enough to make much of an issue of it. That said, so long as you don’t name a price, I’ll make sure you’re far from disappointed.” The man held up one begloved hand. “I’m Chrollo by the way, and very rude for not introducing myself first and foremost.”

  
Leorio processed the information as he stared at the hand wrapped up in dull black fabric. A party, a night in the life of the upper class, surrounded by fancy drinks and finger food… even if the pay was disappointing he couldn’t lie even to himself by saying this didn’t intrigue him. He wiped his damp hand off on the apron around his waist, then clasped Chrollo’s hand in his with a firm shake. “Leorio, pleasure doing business with you.”

  
\---

  
_‘How lovely it might be to see you dressed up dashingly, and just as thoroughly dressed down bare. Do you enjoy kneeling? I know I would like to feel your cheek within the palm of my hand. Surely you have some softness about you, might you let me find it?’_

  
\---

  
Sunlight filtered into the room Leorio rented, small and cluttered, but it was a home. A place to keep his books and his clothes and his body when that body needed keeping. His eyes opened slowly as he realized the sunlight was dimmed just slightly by the letter fluttering with his breath atop his nose. He must have fallen asleep reading it, which likely meant his candle had burnt down to the base. Unfortunate, no late night studies then until he could buy or snatch another one.

  
He rolled out of bed and set the letter aside where he’d arisen from, momentum continuing until he was up on his feet. The world bustled distantly beyond the sound of chickens and cattle which lived on the farm along with him. That constituted his day job, or at least the work he did when the sun woke him up.

  
Collect the eggs, feed the animals, water the garden, so on and so forth until the yard chores were finished and Leorio could slip inside to eat his breakfast, then be on his way to the docks.

  
It wasn’t that the school couldn’t provide them with books and diagrams, but that real human bodies were the best subjects for physiological research. When the morgue became too dangerous due to overzealous clergy and evangelical alike, studies needed to move to unlikely locations. Leorio kept a journal of notes and the one anatomy book he could find at the local bookstore within his price range, a belt cinched tight around the two objects with his pen and ink safely tucked into his jacket pocket. It was enough to get through lessons if he payed intense attention to what was going on, intense enough to recall later while taking care of whatever menial duties were on his plate at the time.

  
Professor Martin was an eccentric man of a height somewhere around Leorio’s chest, as were most, with short brown hair that had a habit of frizzing away from its careful tucks. Freckled and bespectacled with as much white draped down over his day clothes to protect them from the gunk and dirt of their current corpse.

  
“Subject was… donated, kindly, by a few friends of his. Late 20’s, missing a leg in life rather than a botched recovery from the gravesite. Hm, a few gunshot wounds but this isn't a criminal investigation class, and I don’t know a damn thing about guns. Let’s get to it then shall we?” Martin grinned and clasped his hands together.

  
\---

  
Chrollo was to pick him up from The Rose Garden at a predestined time, three in the afternoon to be exact. Except that the man was far from exact and made Leorio stand there on the porch as rain dripped down through holes in the awning. He hoped Chrollo intended to take him to a boutique before this party, because Leorio certainly didn’t own anything nice enough to avoid scoffing and ridicule from the wealthy masses. Even if he did own something nice enough it wouldn’t stay nice in this downpour, as he had no bag to hide an entire ensemble within to protect it from the elements. No, this was looking downright dicey as the minutes passed. Was Chrollo duping him? Making him wait out here like a fool so he loses wages over silly visions of grandeur? He thought of painted china and crystal goblets and hoped the dark form through the torrent was his current business partner.

  
When the carriage pulled up the the end of the lane, he saw a woman hop down onto the path and quickly unfold an umbrella above her head, then dash his way to beckon him under with her. He took the umbrella out of politeness and because she had to reach rather strenuously to hold the damn thing above his ears. He looked at her properly only once they were in the carriage and rattling over stones, dirt, and puddles into town. Leorio couldn’t name one upscale destination on this side of town, and when they stopped in front of a tailor shop with darkly stained and sagging eaves some of his confusion dissipated. She motioned only once for him to follow, but follow her he did in order to find out where exactly this was going.

  
“The boss asked me to make you something but he told me he was guessing your measurements, so it still needs to be fitted and fixed. Here,” She handed him a stack of clothing. “Put these on and come to me wearing them.” Strawberry blond edging into genuine pink, Leorio wondered what she might be using for dye until he realized she was probably surrounded by dyes working in a textiles profession. She snapped her fingers above the pile in his arms. “Come on, we’re on a schedule here.”

  
Leorio dodged off to find a shelf to change behind as the woman muttered something under her breath in another language, though he wasn’t sure which besides ‘probably from the east.’ It wasn’t a romance language at least. He probably resembled that remark.

  
She tilted her head with a hand on her hip as she looked him over once he stepped out into the open, the majority of a brand new suit on his body. The fabric was… It was… much nicer than he was ever used to wearing. Even the button up shirt was of a texture he knew couldn’t come cheap. The style also was not to be sniffed at. All in all he made up a rather dashing image, if a disheveled one until the alterations were made.

  
Leorio grew bored of staring around the store while the woman worked. However, he knew that hovering over her shoulder would result in undesirable consequences, so instead he wandered the building to more closely inspect the gadgets, bolts of fabrics, threads, and so on to keep himself entertained.

  
The outfit completed, Leorio was told to change into the finished pieces and go return to the carriage to be transported to the venue. The woman, Machi, stayed behind saying she had better things to do than take part in the boss’s personal ventures and amusements. He wondered in what way Chrollo was her boss, but the call of finer living for a few hours kept his jaw sewn shut and took his feet out the door and into the rain once again.

  
\---

  
Leorio stepped out of the carriage and pretended his shoes didn’t give away the fact he’d never worn a suit like this in all his life as he approached the doorman. At the once-over he was given, Leorio knew immediately he was busted. “Just tell Chrollo his friend’s here, alright?”

“I don’t believe you know anyone here names Chrollo.” The man crossed his arms, not even bothering to ask his name. Figures.

“You won’t know if you don’t ask. Come on it’s pouring and I don’t want to get this suit any more wet than it’s already gotten, you wanna replace it yourself?”

“I’m not even sure I believe that’s your suit, but I’ll bite. What’s Chrollo’s last name if he’s such a good friend of yours?”

Leorio’s head jerked forward as he blinked, the question choking him. “Gkh- Excuse me? I don’t- Ha! I don’t have to answer to you, I don’t have to prove myself, just go find him alright?”

“Yeah, sure thing sir, one moment.” The doorman stepped inside and out of view while Leorio closed his eyes and guessed how many roughnecks were going to come back out with him.

  
“Leorio, there you are. My you look rather damp.” His eyes opened just a crack, enough to see the stylized boots he’d come to recognize as belonging to exactly the man he sought. He straightened up to his usual towering height and cleared his throat.

  
“Yeah, well, I’d be less so if the damn bouncer hadn’t decided I was lying,” He looked down and felt his stomach shoot up to vie for space beside his heart upon seeing Chrollo’s hand up to take his arm. Leorio bent one to fit the position, then followed Chrollo’s minute tugs as lead. ‘Friend’ might be more difficult to pass off like this, perhaps Chrollo did intend to make a liar of him. “What’s your last name anyway? He asked me that to confirm I knew you and, um. I didn’t.”

Chrollo glanced up at him with a small smile, and for one moment between breaths Leorio found it impossible to tell if he recognized the person on his arm. A strange moment with a strange expression on the man’s face before he answered. When he spoke his tone was smooth and anything but sincere. “Lucifer--a family name I assure you.”

  
“Paladiknight,” Leorio’s voice came forth more like an eruption to combat the odd sensation in the air. “My surname, I mean.”

“Very fitting, I’m sure you’d look very brave with a sword between your hands.” He did not miss the way Chrollo’s gaze shifted to his hands, nor the double meaning that left Leorio’s ears feeling hot. It seemed he was being paid more to keep his composure than to act the part of companion at the moment.

  
The evening progressed from Chrollo walking around being seen rather than spoken to by most of the guestlist, to Leorio getting his wish and finding the table with ridiculous finger foods and alcohol to wash them down with. They wouldn’t do to fill his belly, but with the way rich people were they were probably more for show of how much each tiny ingredient cost. He did not care. He picked up three different kinds and popped one in his mouth at exactly the same moment a certain man across the room finally unglued his eyes from Leorio’s form.

  
“Fuck.”

  
Chrollo glanced up from the dark liquid he was swirling around in a wine glass but not at all drinking. “Hm?”

“Ah, I think I do recognize someone- fuck.” Leorio picked a drink up off the table and tipped back the underwhelming amount of liquor as Kurapika approached them like a wraith through the crowd. Chrollo’s gaze turned to watch with no comprehension but infinite intrigue as their private bubble was intruded upon. Same height as Chrollo, oh this probably wasn’t a good look hunh? Leorio winced before a single word had been spoken, Kurapika’s focus on the array presented across the ornate tables.

  
Finally Kurapika turned to face Leorio, his hands at the small of his back and his head tilted unabashedly up to look him full in the face. “I admit, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m here with him.” Leorio jerked a thumb towards his stone sober companion, who continued to hold the rim of the glass nearest his lips as he could without touching.

  
“Chrollo, a pleasure.”

“I don’t recall asking.” The repressed anger in Kurapika’s eyes shocked Leorio out of defending his date. Companion. Business associate. By the time he found his tongue lodged somewhere behind his tonsils that gaze had cooled and settled back on his own. “You have poor taste in connections, or a very incomplete understanding of the phrase ‘stay out of trouble’. But I suppose I knew that.”

  
Leorio squashed a retort down into a scream that died in his throat as Kurapika picked up a drink from the table without bothering to see which one, and took an unflinching sip. “Could you stop posturing so much for at least until this party ends? It’s painful to watch, as is what passes for conversation. Did you need something?” Leorio’s bicep twitched under Chrollo’s arm at the desire to snatch the drink away and dump it over his ex-lover’s head.

  
Chrollo, for his part, was smiling rather gleefully. “You know a man such as this, Leorio? How nice, does he do funerals?”

  
The air did not have time to gain the electrical charge normally felt before a fight. Immediately Kurapika had emptied his own drink as Leorio had desired seconds before, but in the face of his companion. The hand holding the empty glass shook and Leorio thought he might be one of few to recognize restraint in such a bizarre situation.

  
“Kurapika!”

“I’ll remove myself.” He set the glass on the table where he found it, spared one last (pleading? Surely not.) look Leorio’s way, and parted the now very interested crowd on his way out.

  
Leorio tore his eyes away from his retreating back to assess the damage. Sugary alcohol had ruined some of the iron hold Chrollo’s gel had on his hair, sending a few chunks falling into his face. The cravat was a lost cause. He sucked in a breath and let it out as an apologetic sigh as his face fell. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why he did that. Never took him for the jealous type I guess. Should we leave? I can accompany you home if you want.” This was just a job, true, but Leorio had always owned a heart too big for is fetters.

  
“If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind cleaning up with your company.” Chrollo laughed and set his untouched wineglass down. “Miserable atmosphere anyway, hardly better than the club.”

  
“Lead the way out then.” Leorio presented his arm once more.

  
\---

  
Someone’s shirt was between someone’s teeth, and the buttons came loose. Oh the buttons came loose, like feathers from a dinner duck. Plucked in order to get to the meat below.

  
Leorio wasn’t sure what came over him.

  
\---

  
The next letter in Leorio’s hands was not from his secret admirer, nor was it in the same handwriting. This was… fortunate, he supposed, as the current letter was from Kurapika demanding he meet in the market oh so conveniently during the time Leorio needed to be in class. He threw the parchment away but knew in his foolish heart he would comply.

  
The market was busy despite the threatening clouds above, mostly because the clouds were so often threatening and nearly always above if not amidst the people themselves. Kurapika had chosen a place nearest to an alley best described as an escape route if you asked Leorio, and he glanced up rather than broadcasting his movements at all like a normal person meeting an acquaintance in town. Leorio put a fist on his hip and the palm of his other hand against the post holding an awning over a stand of root vegetables. “Do you have to be so shady all the time?”

  
“Just comes naturally,” Kurapika’s fists were buried deep in the pockets of his coat, the ends of which swept around his ankles like great fins. “Your loom has grown impressive, Leorio, I almost thought you were a threat for a moment.”

“Ah yes, like my partner who threatened you so thoroughly at the party?”

Kurapika’s head tilted. “Partner, that’s a carefully vague term. Is my penchant for obfuscation rubbing off on you?”

“Stop being too smart for your own good right this instant.” Leorio’s mouth twitched as if it wanted to split into a grin but stumbled halfway through. His chest hurt. Kurapika’s eyes slid out over the bustling market square.

“Do you know anything about the man who brought you to that function the other day?”

  
“I know he paid me enough to buy a proper anatomy book and a few candles to study by. That good enough, inquisitor?”

  
“Sometimes I wish you knew the truth to your words. Wait,” Kurapika’s face finally screwed up with realization. “Excuse me, he paid you to dress up and go to a party?”

  
The sneer curled at Leorio’s lips as much as it curled his stomach. “You didn’t forget did you? School is expensive and I got as much inheritance as you did, that being nothing. If some dandy wants to pay me for an evening do you take me to be a man who’d say no?”

  
Kurapika’s expression opened up and softened for such a short fraction of a second Leorio was sure he’d hallucinated it. Remembered it. He’d seen softness on those features before he was sure of it. “Right, my apologies. I did take you for a man who’d say no.”

  
“Glad we settled that, actually I’m especially glad I skipped class for this because you’re an inconsiderate prick who can’t just stalk me long enough to find out when I’m not busy like you do everyone else you talk to.” Leorio straightened up and started off at a swift clip. He was going home for a nice solid nap as the conversation had thoroughly sapped him of all energy.

  
The warm hand around his wrist stopped him in his tracks. “Stop, this isn’t what I intended to speak with you about. Leorio that man is dangerous.”

“You think I’m going to listen to a word you say?” Leorio whirled on him, incredulous.

  
“I’ve been tracking him down since,” Kurapika’s expression flickered. “Since we parted ways, and-”

  
“Since you dumped me you mean?”

“Since I ended our relationship, yes. I’ve been tracking him since then and you need to be aware that he is in fact a murderer. Don’t shut me out, I’m trying to keep you alive!” Some tell must have presented on Leorio’s face when the ridiculousness of those words made him want to roll his eyes.

  
“Alright he’s a murderer, how do you know that?”

  
Kurapika brought a fist up to his mouth and glared, silent. “I can’t tell you, you’re too close to him right now.”

  
“... I’ll keep an eye out for any knives the next time he invites me to go for a stroll. I’m going home now, thanks for the heads up.” Leorio took one step back, then another, and then he extracted himself from the situation.

  
\---

  
The next letter arrived in the form of a package. Parchment set inside an envelope carefully atop the wrappings, Leorio forwent reading the letter itself to curiously pull out what appeared for all the world to be a brand new bit and halter. He stared at it quizzically before recalling the envelope, and opened that next.

  
‘ _A strapping young man deserves to be ridden now and again. I would love nothing more than to strap in and see how long you can buck before succumbing between my thighs. Dear stallion I intend to keep you.’_

  
Leorio read the letter with more than a bit of heat in his face and travelling lower, but something about the last line sent the sensation of meltwater down his spine.

  
\---

  
The rain broke for the second time that week, on a day Leorio just so happened to be staying at The Rose Garden later than usual. He was part of the closing crew tonight, or at least he intended to be before Chrollo leaned across the bar and tugged at the lapel of his jacket.

  
Leorio wet his lips and thought back to Kurapika's warning even as he leaned in close enough for Chrollo's lips to brush the shell of his ear. “I think I'd like you to accompany me home tonight, Leorio. It's awfully dreary out and I'd hate to spend the night alone.”

  
With sweaty hands that gripped the edge of the counter, Leorio cleared his throat and steadied himself before replying. “Ahah, well see I'm to work until the club closes. Missed wages, pissed off boss, you know.”

  
“Forget your boss. You don't need this job anyway, I pay much better,” Chrollo eased off and leaned back into his chair. “Don't I?”

  
How could he refuse?

  
There was the distinct sensation, actually, that a second refusal would go unsatisfactory for him. But Chrollo had been fine thus far so why should that change? Except… Now Leorio knew he was a killer. And he did know, he did believe Kurapika try as he might to banish that stupid warning from his mind.

  
Leorio removed his apron and hung it up on its hook with a strange sense of finality. God, but he wasn't going to die. He couldn't. Chrollo liked him and simply wanted a repeat of the their romp after the party. This was absurd. He wanted so badly to discount Kurapika as jealous and fanatical but the look in Chrollo's eye suddenly seemed so much more off putting than normal.

  
Normal.

  
Was it ever normal to be so mysterious and unnerving?

  
Leorio walked with him out of the bar, into the rain, into the carriage to shiver during the ride to the manor Chrollo called his home. Farther from town than the farmhouse Leorio rented his room from, far enough out that he'd been surprised the first time how long the journey had taken. Chrollo rubbed Leorio's arms until the carriage came to a halt, and then led him out into the rain once more.

  
The manor was in disrepair and wanting for a homemaker’s touch but somehow that seemed to fit the owner just fine. If, a small voice sounded in the back of his mind, Chrollo even was the homeowner. Leorio followed him up to the bedroom and allowed himself to be stripped and sat on the bed in such a way the air puffed free of his lungs on impact.

  
He must have been in a daze.

  
Chrollo's lips met his, and then so did bare skin meet. Sensuality interrupted by the length of rope winding around Leorio's left wrist, then his right until the two were brought up and secured to the headboard. “Ah! Haha, actually, that's a bit farther off the beaten path than I really intended to go tonight.” He tugged, but as Chrollo secured the knot there was little give.

  
“Worry not, pet. There's nowhere you need to be later, we can take our time.” Chrollo smiled, looking him over. “I did say I wanted to keep you.”

  
The letters.

  
The fucking _bit_.

  
Leorio's perspiration increased from his palms to a full body reaction and he wet his lips, tugging at the rope again. “You, uh…”

  
“I had gotten the impression you were more empathetic than intellectual, it seems my read of you was correct. You really are a sweet boy but how did you ever live so long with so little in your skull?” There was that look im Chrollo's eye as well, from the split second Leorio didn't recognize him at the party. What was that? Amusement? Sadism?

  
“Are… You gonna kill me?”

  
“Hm? I wasn't planning to no. Not for a while anyway, I like to keep my toys in good condition for as long as possible. Call it habit, I grew up much like you. But you know Leorio no one has to live the way society dictates. Not when it's so easy to simply take what one desires.”

  
“Ah.”

  
Chrollo smiled at him again with that chilliness that made Leorio want to gnaw his own arms off to escape.

  
Leorio's heart nearly stopped when the door on the first floor slammed shut. Even Chrollo gave pause to listen intently, his eyes darting to the bedroom door curiously. “... Evidently we have company, that certainly wasn't the wind.”

  
“You gonna check it out?” Leorio looked up hopefully only to grind his teeth when Chrollo pulled a knife out of the bedside drawer and brought it to Leorio's throat.

  
“Shhhh, I'm counting the footsteps.” And then Leorio was able to hear soft, catlike steps approach the door. The knife pressed tight to his skin as the handle turned.

  
The door opened slow, revealing no one at first. Then the intruder spoke, and tingling relief made Leorio's body relax beyond any sense.

  
“Unhand him, Chrollo, I'm here for you.”

  
“Three’s a crowd, and I'm not entertaining visitors right now.” Chrollo's voice was calm and steady despite the situation.

  
“Entertain this then.” Kurapika sidestepped finally into the light with a small pistol in his hand that he aimed at Chrollo. “Put the knife aside and come with me downstairs, I'd like to ask you something before I kill you.

  
“Ask it here and I'll comply.”

  
The smug tone made Kurapika squint, but he spoke again regardless. “Do you remember everyone you kill? Do you remember my family?”

  
“Not in the slightest, why?”

  
“Bastard!” Kurapika pulled the trigger and a bullet lodged into the wallpaper an inch to the left of Chrollo's skull. A gasp tore from Leorio's already shocked lungs as the knife bit his jaw, but then left him entirely as Chrollo rushed to the window. Out the window, or rather, through the window.

  
“You don't shoot at a man holding a knife to a guy's throat, Kurapika! Hey! Untie me before you jump out the fucking window! Hey!” Leorio only ceased struggling to gasp for air when Kurapika turned away from the window. His wide hazel eyes seemed to register the scene only after staring for a solid few seconds, and then he dropped the gun with a short laugh.

  
“You're terrible at taking advice, why should I listen to you?” His legs wobbled, so Kurapika slid down the wall into a crouch before they gave out. “... Are you okay?”

  
“I'll be a lot better when I'm not tied naked to a bed and bleeding. Have you noticed that yet? That I'm bleeding? Because he cut me when you shot at him.” Leorio let his head drop onto the pillow to wait while Kurapika got his wits about himself again. “Thanks. Not for shooting while I was a hostage-”

  
“Of course.”

  
“Obviously, but thanks for the warning. And for rescuing me I guess.” He stares at the ceiling and took in the cobwebs. This was definitely not Chrollo's property.

  
“... You shouldn't thank me, I didn't even know you were here.” The floorboards creaked as Kurapika got to his feet and finally walked over to cut the ropes off with a knife of his own.

  
“Ah, late night murder?” Leorio sat up while rubbing his wrists. No burns, seemed Chrollo had genuinely intended to have a good time before the interruption.

  
“You could say that.” Kurapika frowned at the broken window, rain blowing in from the storm, and did not elaborate.


End file.
